


an observer's tale

by orphan_account



Category: Social Network (2010)
Genre: F/F, Future Fic, Kid Fic, M/M, Reconciliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-19
Updated: 2011-11-19
Packaged: 2017-10-26 06:56:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/280075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mark decides that if he can’t have Eduardo, he will have the next best thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	an observer's tale

1.

 

The lecture hall emptied out slowly after the last class discussion. Eduardo liked that rooms here were never more than half-full; too packed meant it got too crowded, and empty meant he could have been somewhere else, doing something more meaningful. His lecture had been on the impact of developments in the communication industry on society from an economic standpoint. There had only been two Facebook-related questions, both appropriate enough for him to include in his narrative. He was just a guest lecturer at Hult, but that didn't mean he didn't want his students to like his class.

He was packing, desizing his tablet, storing his laser pointer in his sidebag when one of the students rushed past him; out of the corner of his eye Eduardo caught a glance at his curly hair that was a tick too familiar. He was obviously in a hurry, but Eduardo knew that body language. The boy was gone before Eduardo could get a look at his face.

He felt unsettled for the rest of the day. He was glad he'd be returning to New York the next morning. It was clear he'd already been on the west coast for too long, and after a while, he started seeing things.

 

2.

"Philip Karen Zuckerberg!"

Philip's face popped up from underneath the desk, falling into her line of sight. His eyes widened innocently.

"Why is there a two-thirty video of my face on the internet?" Erica put her hands on her hips, and called on her most menacing scowl. She hoped it would transmit in all its ferocity onto the 3D hologram of herself, because it was the only thing that worked in real life. Sometimes.

"That video is art," Philip protested. He hopped up onto his seat and placed a paper book on the desk next to his tablet. The pen had leaked, leaving blue stains all over his hands and desk. That was one more reason why no one used pens anymore.

"I found this amazing new setting on my camera that day and you were the only one nearby. It's got two thousand hits already!"

"I can see that," Erica said. "God, stop looking at me with those eyes, you're worse than your father."

Philip's mouth curled up. "Which one?"

For a moment, Erica thought she had heard him wrong. Then it registered that no, she hadn't.

"What are you talking about?" she asked carefully after taking a deep breath so that she wouldn't accidentally incriminate herself. As far as she was concerned, she wasn't involved in any of this; well, up until she'd basically gotten herself related to Mark Zuckerberg. Randi was right, she had only herself to blame.

"You really thought I didn't know?" Philip glanced down at his lap and bit his lip. From the angle she had on him, he looked more like Eduardo than ever. "I look a lot like him."

"Philip." In moments like these, she was grateful he hated using the holograms. She could see him much better with his tablet camera, judge the hunch of his shoulders without him adjusting for every one of his movements. "You need to tell Mark."

"I know." Philip sighed. He looked up at her, still chewing on his lip. "I saw him."

This time, Erica made sure not to show the bout of shock that went through her on her face. "You talked to him?"

"No! I just - I heard he was going to give a lecture over at Hult International. It was last year, don't freak. And no, I just sat quietly in the back. He's a good speaker. I mean, I know nothing about business, but I enjoyed it." Philip gave her a reassuring smile. "I left right after. I just wanted to see him. I know he has no idea I exist."

"Which is good because if he did, he would start asking questions. Philip, listen to me." Erica didn't return his smile. "When Mark decided to have you, he was twenty and stupid and he did it for all the right reasons -"

"- like what?"

"Like love," Erica said pointedly. "He loved your dad, he wanted you very much. But what he did was still illegal. If Eduardo finds out about you, he will freak out. You understand this, right?"

Philip's smile had died with her little speech. He was frowning, his eyes sad. "I understand," he said, because he was a good kid. She had no idea how Mark had managed that. Maybe what Eduardo's influence had never managed with Mark himself, his genes had done to Mark's.

"Good," she said. "Oh, and take the video down."

"All right, all right. It's a great video, though!"

"I'm sure. But the reason I called was to ask whether you're done with that painting for our new kitchen. Because I remember paying my favorite nephew for a beautiful still life, and yet..."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it, I'm working on it," Philip said, rolling his eyes. "I'm a busy man."

Erica snorted. "If you say so. Talk to Mark, dear. He'll squirm and deny everything, but I'm confident you'll weasel the story out of him once he knows that you know."

She logged off and closed down all equipment, checking the time as she went. Almost dinner-time, her watch said, and she was still at the office. Randi was going to kill her, she'd promised to be home early. Well, at least she'd be bringing reliably interesting conversation with her. As she rose from her seat, she considered calling Mark to give him a heads up, but then decided against it. Mark hardly ever got blindsided anymore; it would do him some good.

 

3.

 

Dustin went to the wedding because Mark was the best man and a best man always needed another man to hold his champagne glass for him while he puked his guts out in the toilet. It wasn't even the good, alcohol-induced kind of vomit, merely food-poisoning. Mark was boring like that.

"Wardo's here," Mark said when he was done.

Dustin stared. Not food-poisoning then. Panic attack. Dustin knew the feeling.

"My sister - and I say that in the most respectful way - is a bitch."

"She invited him?"

Mark's face did that frowny thing it did whenever Philip brought home a date.

"The world's too big for him to be dating one of Randi's or Erica's friends," Dustin said. "Come on."

It turned out that Eduardo was, in fact, dating one of Erica's best friends. The world of millionaire businessmen was smaller than he'd thought. The only consolation was that Eduardo hadn't yet met the clone.

"I met your wife," Eduardo said after he was done introducing Dustin to the guy. Who was handsome and charming and Dustin was loyal to Mark, he really was, but this guy was a catch. If he hadn't been married already, Dustin would have played the jealousy card. "She seems lovely. We talked about the holographic library she's setting up with the wiki guys."

"You should invest some of your hard-earned money in that," Dustin nudged him. "While you still can."

Eduardo grinned. "She has my thumb on the forms." Then his smile slipped. "I wasn't going to come -"

"I wondered," Dustin said. "You've been very good at avoiding Mark for the past twenty years, no offense."

Eduardo crossed his arms, uncrossed them. "I'm - I don't know why I'm here. Can we leave it at that?"

"No. Because you know that I know that you're here because you haven't seen his face in almost a year."

"Is it true that he's thinking of going back into the business?"

"Oh, so that's why you're here!" Dustin wagged his eyebrows. "Checking out the competition, seeing if we have any game-changers on the back of our truck."

Eduardo flushed bright red. "No! No, I honestly - I would never solicit information this way."

"Wardo, relax," Dustin said, placing his hand on Wardo's arm. Some things never changed. "I was kidding, Jesus. Like you would ever do that. Like I don't know you enough. Your strict moral code required that I never bring back a drunk girl for sex in college, do you know what that did to my social life?"

"And yet, here you are," Eduardo said, relaxing as told.

"And yet, here we are." Dustin pointed his finger at Eduardo, poking him in the chest. "You should find him and talk to him. He freaked out when he saw you, and yeah, he still misses you. I shouldn't be telling you this because you broke his heart, but man, you broke his fucking heart. Still breaking it."

"First off, it's been twenty years, and I'm over it. And secondly - I broke his heart?" Eduardo snorted. "I distinctly remember the sound of him sidelining me from my own business. It didn't sound like a heart breaking."

Dustin waved his hand. Clearly not over it. "Let's do it this way, okay?" he said. "It's old history. I don't know how you guys haven't made up a long time ago, but here we are, and you know what? You should. I'm sick of the drama."

Eduardo's mouth was pinched. "This is a classic case of I will if he will, you can tell him that." He glanced away from Dustin's face, over his shoulder, and then, suddenly, his face paled.

Dustin had the sinking feeling he knew exactly what Eduardo had just spotted. "Wardo," he tried, voice hard, but Eduardo didn't snap out of it. When Dustin turned around, he saw Philip in his dark blue suit, looking almost grown-up if it hadn't been for his open mouth catching flies.

"What the fuck is this?" Eduardo hissed, and moved forwards.

It was Mark who stepped between them, Mark's face that made Eduardo hesitate for long enough so that they managed to pull him into the empty bridal room.

 

4.

Mark knew it was irrational to be jealous of his own son. He'd never envied Philip anything, not his artistic ability (of which Mark had little), his popularity (so unlike Mark's, which had tasted shallow once he'd achieved it). Mark had watched him love, deeply and passionately, so much like Eduardo, even at his age, but then, at Philip's age, Mark had already loved like that, too.

Mark was good at deluding himself until it started to hurt. Then he just liked to curl up with his laptop and ignore the world until everything was numb.

Right now, what hurt was seeing Eduardo with Philip, so careful and gentle, afraid to touch. They were seated on the couch in Mark's house, away from the prying eyes of the wedding company. The three of them and Dustin had left after the bomb had dropped; Randi had said they'd leave too, as soon as they could get away. Mark leaned against the doorframe to his side and tried not to feel more invisible than he already was.

"Philip, huh?" Eduardo was asking, in low voice, almost low enough that Mark couldn't hear.

"Yeah." Philip was never shy, but now, sitting beside Eduardo, he looked scared out of his mind. He also looked happy, which was the only reason Mark wasn't dragging Eduardo away and throwing him out of here.

"It's a good name," Eduardo whispered. "My - my father's name was Felipe."

Philip's mouth formed a little 'o'.

"My middle name, too," Eduardo offered. "I don't -" He looked up, lifting his gaze to meet Mark's head-on. "I suppose that was intentional."

Mark nodded. Philip looked unsure.

"I'm sorry we haven't met until now," Eduardo said sadly. Mark hated that look on his face, hated causing that expression; he never meant to, but he so often did. He'd done everything in his power to make sure he never had to see the same expression in Philip's eyes, and he thought he had managed quite admirably.

"It's okay," Philip said. "You gave a lecture, beginning of last year? I saw you then. I could have said something, but I didn't either."

Eduardo gave him a small smile. Philip smiled back carefully, and then more broadly when Mark made a little sound from the back of his throat that he couldn't keep back.

"You're not mad at dad about me though, are you?" Philip then asked, and the smile slipped. "They said you'd be very upset. You're not though, are you?"

There was a little pause. Mark could see Eduardo collecting himself, sifting through his feelings before he said something he'd come to regret. Then Eduardo squared his shoulders. "I'm not upset you're here," he said. "I'm - a lot of things. Surprised. Overwhelmed. Yeah, a little mad at your dad." He chewed his lip. "For never telling me. For never asking me."

He wasn't looking at Mark, but it was clearly directed at him. Mark looked to the floor, because he knew twenty years ago it would have gone right over his head. But he'd had those years to learn. He was so much better at this now.

"I'm sorry," he said, not loudly, but loud enough.

Eduardo snorted. His shoulder brushed Philip's when he moved forward, almost like a shoulder-check. "Oh, he's sorry now." He burst out in a laugh. "Shit, this is ridiculous."

"Are you all right?" Philip asked him, looking worried.

Mark could feel himself starting to smile despite his intentions not to, and he knew Eduardo could see it, too. He ducked his head and said teasingly, "I'll put you up as a co-founder for this new project I'm working on, if it'll make you feel better. You can be my CFO."

"Yeah, how about no," Eduardo said. "But we should probably get along now. For the sake of the child."

"Hey," Philip protested. "I'm not a child."

"Yes, you are," they said in unison.

 

5.

Philip understood the basics of programming; he could work computers just fine. He had a feeling his dad would have disowned him if he'd been computer-illitarate. But he'd never understood the fascination his dad had with it, or the hype surrounding all the new advancements in the technologies. He was happiest holding a new 55-250mm lens or editing videos with old early 10s editing software.

Being a self-proclaimed artist, he felt he understood the mysteries of romance quite well.

He'd heard about the Facebook incident a few times by now, it wasn't a secret what had happened. It never ceased to make his heart beat harder. He didn't understand why Eduardo hadn't trusted his dad's judgement, why dad had cut Eduardo out of the business without talking things through. He didn't understand why they'd never kissed.

The first time Philip had been in love with a girl, he'd written her a poem and then kissed her when she'd said thank you with shining eyes. He'd been in love with a boy too, and there had been paint, lots of paint all over their clothes when they were done, that first time.

Erica had told him once that being gay hadn't been easy, twenty years ago. She must have a point because Philip knew from Dustin how Chris hadn't come out in college to his friends; how he'd waited until well after Facebook. Chris was one of the proudest people Philip knew. Erica had also told him that dad had been different back then, and so had Eduardo.

He liked Eduardo, liked spending time together because Eduardo loved art and talking about Philip's photographs even as he said he was no good at them. But he had the feeling Eduardo wasn't just coming back to spend time with him. There was a strange anticipation in his eyes whenever dad was home, and disappointment when he wasn't.

The most memorable lesson from Philip's first art teacher in high school had been that in order to be a great artist, one had to be a great observer. It had stayed with him, and he'd started to watch things much more closely after that.

He saw them once in the kitchen, talking quietly over coffee, Eduardo gesturing while dad sat with his shoulders hunched, glaring at his cup. He saw them flirt in the garden where he was hidden, reading a book, his dad's hand tugging on Eduardo's hair, giggles ringing out across the grass.

He watched them for a few weeks before he joined his dad in front of the TV one evening after he got back from the office. That was new, too. Being a programmer and being a stay-at-home dad fit quite nicely, after all. Philip knew a lot of childred resented their parents being home a lot, but his dad had a way of disappearing whenever Philip felt crowded. Plus, the house really was big enough that they could go days without seeing each other if they wanted.

His dad made some space on the couch, giving him a quick glance. "What's up, Pi?" Philip never usually came down after nine.

Philip sat down. He fidgeted for a few seconds, rubbing his hands together, then he said, "So. Eduardo."

His dad's eyes softened enough to tell him that he was completely right with his assessment of the situation. There was also the fact that he'd never actually dated anyone for longer than a few weeks, and Eduardo had already outstayed that.

"Are you dating?"

"Who?" his dad asked. "Oh. Eduardo? No!"

"You should date him."

"That is not - there was never - and we don't..." He trailed off.

Philip made a face that he hoped conveyed what he thought of the half-finished sentences. "You really should," he said. "He doesn't come by only to see me, you know."

"It's not that easy," his dad said softly, not looking at Philip anymore.

But maybe it was that easy, because the next time Philip saw them, they were kissing. He was heading downstairs to go out; Eduardo had been there for dinner, hadn't yet left, but was apparently just about to. His lips were red and bruised, and they jumped apart guiltily when Philip bounced down the last step with more noise than necessary.

He rolled his eyes. "About time," he said. "Just don't do that in front of me, I'm easily traumatized."

"Shut up, you," his dad said, and opened the door leading out front where Eduardo's car was parked. "It was a good-bye kiss. I remember that one time you and your date -"

"Forget I said anything," Philip said quickly, his ears turning red-hot.

Eduardo looked embarrassed, too. "Do you need a ride?" he asked, a desperate attempt to change the topic.

Philip gave him a narrow-eyed look. "I'm good. You should stay with dad, keep him company. Good-bye kisses are lame."

He left them there and headed out to his car, and hoped he could crash with one of his friends. Maybe send in a cleaning crew tomorrow. He grinned at himself in his car window. Then he took out his phone and called Erica. Artiste or not, she owed him fifty bucks.

///

~~~ written October 2011 


End file.
